


A Beautiful Betrayal

by KamiLiCid



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Drama & Romance, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-28
Updated: 2017-08-28
Packaged: 2018-12-21 03:40:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11935566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KamiLiCid/pseuds/KamiLiCid
Summary: Haru Okumura lives her life abiding by what is set up for her. She masks her dissatisfaction with a cheery mask, hoping one day everything will be turn out well. Her hopes slowly fades as she becomes all too accustom to the lifestyle she is forced to live. It isn't until Haru meets Akira Kurusu, who helps reveal who she truly is.





	1. Mystery Boy

Climbing up the stairs of Shujin Academy never felt as arduous than it did today. The trip to the third floor made my arms feel like brittle twigs under the weight of the two large bags of soil. My legs also yearn for a break after the climb up the three flights of stairs. If it were any other day, I would've carried these at my own pace, spending the evening in the rooftop of the school attending to the garden, but today I was pressed for time. My planned fiance had called me moments prior asking to meet with me. Though every bit of me wants to refuse his offer, my father swears Sugimura is the best candidate for my hand in marriage, and enforces any time spent together.

Sugimura is a talented and wealthy young man. A businessman and an up and coming politician. He is brilliant, he is charming, he is handsome, he is confident. Sugimura is everything a woman could love, but he hid more behind the mask he fronts. Sugimura is well aware of what he is and what power he holds, and he uses all of his traits mercilessly. I fear my life when we are truly wedded. My skin shivers at the thought of his unwanted touch on my body.

"Excuse me, need help?" a quiet, yet strong voice asks, breaking me from my thoughts. I turn towards the sound of the voice. A few steps below me is a tall bespectacled boy, with hair resembling that of a black sheep's wool. His eyes are as black as the Shujin uniform he wears. I don't know what it is about him, but he exudes a mysterious, yet comforting air. Slung to his shoulder is a school bag, with a slight opening to it. I can't say I know everyone at this school, but he is by far the only face I have never seen before.

I give a polite smile, and shake my head. Though I could use the help, I can't burden someone I have never met. "Thanks for the offer, but I will be fine," I turn back, prepared to continue the climb. Unfortunately, while I am prepared to ascend, my legs aren't. I feel my right leg buckle in on itself, and sends me forcibly take a knee, trying my best to not fall forward. The suddenness of the misstep caused my wrists to ache as if they were hit with hammers, and I close my eyes, fighting back tears. I hear a few steps climb up, and the weight in my arms is halved. I open my eyes briefly, to see the boy has taken one of the bags of soils in his arms. He gives a smile and sets the bag aside, offering his hand to me. I let the bag rest on the stairs and took his hand. His hands are callused, yet warm and inviting. I am back on my feet, with the help of the boy. I can't help but let a grateful smile escape as I pick my bag up once more. I proceed to climb the stairs of Shujin, heading toward the rooftop. He carries the other up and follows me up.

At the rooftop, I place the bag near the garden beds the club had set up. The boy places the other on top of where I left the first. I look up at the boy and give him another smile. "You have my thanks," I politely state, giving him a little bow.

He returns the smile and rubs the back of his head, "It's no trouble." He turns to look at the garden bed and looks back at me. "Is this a garden?" he asks.

"Yes," I enthusiastically respond. It's been a year now, and I have been tending to this garden almost everyday I can. This school year will be no different. Gardening is almost a break from the business world I seem to be enveloped in. I look at the beds, knowing no seeds have been planted yet, and look back at the sheep haired boy, "Though nothing is ready to be planted in the beds." The boy nods, seeming to understand. I hadn't had much time to think about it, but he was a bit attractive, in a mysterious way.

In the pocket of my P.E. sweats I feel my cellphone vibrate. "I'm sorry, I have to take this," I state as I head to the staircase. I take out my cellphone and stand at the threshold of the exit. Sugimura, I must be late. When I pick up, I hear the powerful voice of Sugimura, "I'm out front, hurry up Haru." The call ends before I can apologize to him. I put the phone back in my pocket, running down the staircase. I pass by a blonde, wild haired boy, who appears to be climbing up the staircases toward the rooftop. I take a brief moment to think, are other students allowed on the rooftop?


	2. Sugimura

Before meeting with Sugimura, I had to change back into my normal attire, a pink short sleeved sweater over my uniform. I don't dare wear the school’s P.E. uniform around that man. The one time I made that mistake, he berated me for it, calling me a “lowly commoner,” and attempted to forcibly strip me out of it. I fought back his advances until he chose to stop. Needless to say, that night was spent weeping.

Not too far from the school, I see the black car that Sugimura always rode in. I pace my way their, fixing my hair a little for him. A hair out of place was all he needed to criticize me. As I approach the car, I see the profile of his face. His face is porcelain flawless, and well defined, with brown eyes as cold and glossy as marbles. His brown hair is perfectly tamed, groomed in the most professional of ways. He is what people would think of when they hear young, handsome businessman. 

I open the left side car door, seating myself next to him. He turns to look at me, a frown breaking the image he has. “What took you so long?” he asked, though it felt more like a command. 

“I had to take care of things for the gardening club,” I respond, looking away from him. The car sets itself in motion. 

“You're still doing that?” His tone is condescending. “I thought you'd drop it by now.” 

“I enjoy gardening. It gives me something to do outside of my studies.”

He scoffs and lifts my chin up, forcing our eyes to meet. His eyes look more hungry for me, than they do seductive. “If you need something to do, you're always welcomed to meet me after class.”

The way he said that sent a chill all throughout my body. I gently push his hand away from my chin and look away from him. “I enjoy gardening. Nothing feels more satisfying to me than seeing my work blossom.” Though my intentions of joining the club were to avoid both my father and Sugimura, I grew to love the time spent. Setting the seeds in the soil, watering them on a set schedule, watching the vegetables take shape and grow, I love every part of gardening. For those moments I am not the daughter of the president of Okumura foods, I am not the planned fiancee of a soon to be politician, I am myself. Telling him the joy I feel would be useless though, he wouldn't care even if I told him. 

He gives a condescending smile, “Enjoying commoner's works?”

I remain quiet. Everything I want to say will only come back to hurt me. 

His glare leaves as he looks ahead. “At least you picked a lady-like activity to partake in, but did it need to be so dirty?” I can feel his eyes looking me up and down, looking for any imperfections. “You either cleaned yourself up well, or you didn’t do work.” 

I bite my tongue. He's not looking for a response, only to attack me. He places a hand on my right thigh, sending an alarming jolt. I push the hand away, hearing an audible scoff of disappoint from him. 

Finally I arrive home. I couldn’t leave the car any faster. I turn to him, giving him a light bow. “Thank you,” I say out of courtesy. 

Before I could run back up, I hear him call me out. “Saturday evening you and I will be accompanying me to a dinner with potential investor.”

I nod, “Have a good evening Sugimura-san.”

“As well as you Haru.” And with that, the car drives away. I let out a sigh of relief, knowing I won’t have to see him until then. 

In a little bit of time, I am in the penthouse my father and I live in. The penthouse is much too large for only two people to live in, but father wanted to have a beautiful sight when he had guests over. This was rare, but when there were, it was always a large group. Everyone who came would treat me nicely, would ask me about who my academics are going, would ask me about my plans with Sugimura. Every shallow, uncaring question met with a shallow, quick response from me. All of my father’s guests saw me as another Okumura to benefit from, someone who could make them riches if they remained on my good side. 

I look around, wondering if father is home. I hear his voice coming from his study, it sounds like he’s talking to someone from his work. Whether it be in person or not, I would much rather avoid that kind of situation. 

I head to the balcony to water the vegetables I have growing there. Potatoes, carrots, a variety of peppers, all still seedlings, but one day they will grow. As I do so, I recall the boy I met at the rooftop of the school. He was cute, and he seemed kind from our small interaction, but appearances are only skin deep. For all I know, he could be another Sugimura. The second year blonde delinquent was heading up to the rooftop as well. Was he friends with the fluffy haired boy, or was he in trouble? 

I place the watering can to the side and decide to head to my room and do some studying. I pass by my father’s study and can still hear his voice. It must be very important if he has to deal with it personally. I guess tonight will be another night without talking to him. I enter my room, and lay on my bed. I look up at the ceiling, the boy still in my mind. Maybe I will check up on him tomorrow. He did help me when I needed it, if he is in trouble I should offer the same kind of hospitality.


	3. Suspicion

I can’t recall any other time where I was as distracted as I am today. My notes are a lot of half written sentences, and tidbits I managed to pay attention to and jot down before losing focus. The only thing on my mind is confronting the fluffy haired boy from the other day. I haven’t seen him at the rooftop in the last few days. I even tried to look around the second and first year floors, but with no avail. Is he okay? Did the blonde boy do something to him? The delinquent was well known around the school for being the track star who took out his frustration on Coach Kamoshida. Whether he’s mixed up with the wrong crowd, or he’s in trouble, I don’t want him to be afraid to ask for help. 

The final bell rings, and chair pulling out, and bags being lifted fill the air. I emerge out of my thoughts, finally able to head up to the rooftop. Hopefully he's there today. My hands are both careful and quick to place things back into my bag. I stand up, my bag hanging to my side, and walk out of the third floor classroom. As I walk towards the staircase, I see a very recognizable student, the student council President Niijima, heading up to the rooftop. Has the rooftop become a popular spot suddenly? I am quiet as I follow the short haired brunette girl up the staircase. 

At the rooftop, I hear a sigh of discontent as she looks around. “Not here either?” I hear her mutter. 

“Excuse me,” I speak up. Niijima jumps a bit hearing my voice. “May I ask what you're doing here?”

She turns to me, having completely regained composure. Her eyes are a piercing red and her posture makes her appear taller than she actually is. “I could ask you the same,” she states in an authoritative way. “The student body isn't allowed on the rooftop without permission.” 

“I am part of the gardening club, I came to check on the garden beds,” I say without hesitation. This response leaves her with a confused look. 

“Garden beds?” I nod and point behind her, where the garden beds lie.

“Yes, the Gardening Club received special permission to have beds placed up here,” I state. 

She looks over and gives an approving nod. “I see, well if you see any suspicious students, please report them to me.” 

As she walks toward the stairwell, I ask almost instinctively, “May I ask who are the suspicious students you’re looking for?” 

She looks over at me, a frown on her face “That is not of your concern, just report any student who doesn't have permission up here.” And with that she leaves without letting me get another word in. Suspicious students? Fluffy hair boy and delinquent were the only ones I’ve seen come up here. Were either of them causing enough trouble to warrant the student council President’s attention? 

Attempting to shake off my mind off that situation, I look back at the garden bed. I guess no one came up to water the beds today. I look over at the watering can to the side of the left side bed, and pick it up. It’s still hefty, which means there is plenty of water to quench the thirst of the seedlings. I crouch down making sure to keep my balance on my feet, and water the left side garden bed. The dry, tan soil softens up and turns into a darker color. A smile creeps on my face, hearing the wind blow gently over the rooftop. The beautiful soil is at the right color, and I switch over to the next garden bed. I may have not found the boy today either, but watering the garden beds, and seeing the little seedlings sparkle with the evening sun warms my heart and eases my mind. 

“Gardening today?” I heard a voice say. Steps accompany it, approaching towards me. The suddenness of the voice does startle me a little, and I fall backwards, landing with a bit of a thud. The steps quicken and hands hold my arms carefully. “I’m so sorry,” the familiar voice says. I look up, the fluffy hair boy’s black eyes meeting mine. His eyes are wide open, and his expression is a bit worried. I only fell on my bum, but his facial expression reads as if I’ve done worse.

A slight giggle escapes me, his concern being quite sweet, and I respond, “I’m okay, just a small fall.” I give him a polite smile. His expression returns my smile, his face softening and the edges of his lips curling up. He’s cute. “You’re the boy from the other day, correct?” I ask. I take this moment to stand back up and pat down my skirt. 

He nods, “Yes I am. Sorry for bothering you.”

I shake my head, “No, no need to apologize. If anything, I wanted to meet with you again.”

This seemed to confuse him, with his left eyebrow raised a bit, “Oh? What for?” 

I take a deep breath, trying to say this as well as I can. I look at him, straight in the eyes. In the corner of my eyes I see redness creeping on his cheeks. Is he okay? “I know I met you only once before, but I want you to know I-” 

Before I can finish, I hear almost what sounds like a cat meowing. 

Mroww. Mroowww. 

I look around the rooftop, trying to find the source of meowing. It seems as if it’s coming from the boy’s bag. “Is there a cat some-,” I cut myself off as I see the boy hold his bag tight, but the bag moves independent of the boy's action. He seems to try to play it off smoothly, even having a smile that is suppose to paint itself as reassuring on his face.

“Um, is there a cat in your bag?” I ask. 

He looks at his bag, and directly back at me. His eyes shows defeat, but his actions don't. The bag stops moving and he regains his composure. “There is no cat.” 

I frown, a blatant lie. I look at his bag and look back at him. “Then why is your bag moving?” 

He looks at the bag, as it still shuffles a bit. He sighs and places the bag down. He unzips the bag and carefully places his two hands inside. Out from his bag came out a small black cat with a yellow collar. His eyes are a striking blue color. My hands instinctively cover my mouth. He actually did have a cat in his bag! 

He places the cat on the ground. The cat stretches it's legs before sitting down, looking up at us. The fluffy hair boy is looking away and is rubbing the back of his neck. The shock of it all finally passes and I crouch down, scratching the cat’s chin gently. The cat purrs and her eyes closed in contentment. “What a cute cat!” I say with a smile. I look back up at the boy. “What's her name?” 

The boy's face tries to relax, as he puts on a polite, nervous smile, “He, and his name is Morgana.”

“Morgana.” I mutter to myself as I look back at the cat. What a cute name for such a cute cat. As I scratch his chin, I realize I know the boy's cat’s name before I know his. My eyes widen and I look up at him again. “Um, sorry to not have asked this earlier, but what is your name.” 

“I'm Kurusu Akira,” He states with a smile as he extends his hand. I take his hand and he helps me back up. “I’m a second year.”

I return the smile, “It's a pleasure to meet you Kurusu-san.” 

Kurusu let’s out a small laugh, “You’re welcome to call me Akira.” 

Somehow him telling me this makes me feel relaxed. Almost as if there were a door that separated us has opened up a little. “Well, then it is a pleasure to meet you Akira-san. I am a third year. My name is Okumura Haru, but please, call me Haru.” 

“Haru-senpai,” He says with a hint of happiness in his voice. “Well, what is it you wanted to talk about?” 

Oh right! I did have something I wanted to tell the boy. I clear my throat and try my best to regain a bit of seriousness. This change seems to make him a bit uneasy, as his smile fades and his posture seems more tense. Morgana seems unfazed by the change in mood and saunters over towards Akira, trying to climb up the boy’s body. Akira helps him up, resting Morgana on his shoulder, where it seems Morgana has found comfort on. “Akira-san, please hear me out, I am more than grateful for you having helped me the other day, and I would like to show similar kindness. Please, if anything is wrong do not hesitate seeking help from me.” 

His face, while honest as it can be, seems to be shrouded in mystery now. It’s almost as if the kind face from before is now covered by a masquerade mask. He closes his eyes and nods. “I will keep that in mind Haru-senpai. But, why are you worried about me?”

“Student Council President Niijima-san warned me about suspicious students coming up here, and the other day I did see the blonde boy from the second year classes up here. He is well known for having a temper and acting out. Please, if he is bothering you, don’t be afraid to ask for help.” Having said this, Akira seems to be in thought, as if processing what I had just told him. 

“Thank you Haru-senpai, I appreciate it,” he says. His voice lost the friendliness it once had, and is replaced with a more stoic, and cold tone. The door that had opened, felt as if it is closing shut once more. “However, Ryuji is a friend of mine.”

“Oh.”

I am met with no response. He looks away from me. 

The atmosphere has become an iron ball, and is crushing me. The tension between us grew stronger, and made my body shake a little in uncomfort. I can’t stay here any longer. I messed up. I grab my bag, looking down to avoid eye contact with Akira. I walk passed the boy and head for the exit. As I am at the threshold of the door leading to the stairwell, I speak up. “I won’t tell Niijima you spend time up here. I don’t know who she is looking for, but don’t cross her.” 

Before I leave, I hear him say, “Thank you.” The voice isn’t cold, it’s the same as the one I heard from when I first met him. I nod, even if he can’t see me and walk down the staircase.

It doesn’t take me long to leave the school building, and in moments I am in the station, waiting for my train to arrive. Why did it bother me so much that he became so cold? I barely know Akira. He was just fluffy hair boy an hour ago. Yet, his mystery, but willingness to be open, it all made me feel safe. As if someone was finally being who they are. He seemed like he was true with himself. If only I could like that.

I dig through my bag, looking for my phone. There is an unfamiliar card in here. I take it out, it’s a business. Leblanc Cafe in Yongen-Jaya. When did this get in here? Before I can toss it away, the train pulls up, and the doors open. I toss the card back in, closing my bag and walk inside. I’ll deal with it later.


End file.
